My childhood memories of Mama are some of the most precious things in my life.

My mother, Mama, was one of the dearest people in the world. I am quite sure that I am not alone in those feelings. The truth is, I feel a bit sorry for anyone who doesn’t feel that way. My childhood memories of Mama are some of the most precious things in my life.

Mama 1919

In all honesty, this little article is something I was sort of prodded into writing. I’m not complaining, it’s just that writing about something like this can make a man appear to be a bit foolish. Well, anyway, here goes.

Mama, last row 1st on right, about 100 years ago

You know, Mama was a very religious woman. And I don’t mean the kind who goes around telling others how to live their lives. I mean the kind who truly lived a Christian life in every sense of the word. Mama was a woman who really believed every word of the old saying, “If you can’t say something good about somebody, don’t say anything.”

My sisters: Irene, Virginia, Margaret, Mary Marjorie, Winona, and Grace Jean.

I was born the youngest of seven. On top of that, my youngest sister was ten years older than I.

What I am telling you is that I was very young to lose my parents. I was only twenty-seven when Mama died, and twenty-eight when Daddy died.

And, to make my memories of Mama’s death even more deeply engraved in my heart, Mama died on my third wedding anniversary.

Mama and Daddy 1954

I am not writing about my wife; I leave those Mother’s Day memories to be told by my children and grandchildren.

Harrison, Carolyn, Lisa and Laura July 1977

In closing, all I can say is, be good to your mother because you are, in all probability, the dearest thing in the world to her.

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